Rumors
by xevg-x
Summary: He was observing her with a mix of desire, craving, and need. He knew how to make a woman feel admired. She radiated confidence ten women together couldn't match; knowing what she wanted and what to do to make it hers.


**Rumors**

Anna was enjoying herself, an extended vacation in Italy. She already had a tan to kill for and she felt relaxed. Currently she was in Positano, a beautiful village enclosed in the hills leading down to the coast.

Definitively, the best way to move around Italy was with a Vespa. Other kinds of transportation weren't necessary or needed, so she _got_ a Vespa, not a Lambretta and because: "you're not really allowed to be a fan of both. Like the Beatles or the Stones, red or white wine, City or United, the two different types of scooter somehow define the personality of those who ride them." As she'd read … somewhere. Vespas were cuter and fancier, and in these vacations she was in the mood of fancy things.

Fancy things included high stiletto ankle boots, a white tank top with short sleeves and a pair of cut-off shorts, because it was too hot to wear more in the day. Completely irrelevantly, she was wearing a designer black jacket biker with a tuxedo cut. She could do without the jacket, but she wanted to show it off because, again, pretty, fancy things like that deserved to be shown.

The problem with scooters is you have to refill gas more often than a car. So here she was, arriving at a gas station at four in the morning before calling it a day and filling her scooter for another day full of when a car arrived at the same time than her.

Anna was dismounting the Vespa and taking off her helmet, a beautiful three-quarters, custom-made Harley Davidson with sunshield, that she took everywhere in the world, when she sensed someone watching her. Rearranging her ponytail a little from what damage the helmet would might caused, she glanced her peripheral view for where the sensation came from. It came from the driver of a cute little British fancy car, a 1957 MG MGA Roadster, no less.

He was observing her with a mix of desire, craving, and need. He knew how to make a woman feel admired. Exuding confidence ten women together couldn't match; knowing what she wanted and what to do to make it hers.

She knew that car! It was in the same garage where she _got _her Vespa! She couldn't not eat that car with her eyes. It was a total beauty.

Lost in her admiration, she didn't realize the driver of said car was still watching her.

Their looks crossed and she was preparing herself for a big round of expletives in Italian but Anna only received a cocky grin from his appreciator.

Perhaps he didn't recognize the Vespa? It seemed unlikely; they weren't that many like this one. 'Oh well, let's get out of here before anything bad happens,' she thought; but she wasn't fast enough when she heard his grave, masculine voice with a Cajun accent (not what she expected, nor the British accent that went with the car.)

"Wait!"

Damn shit dammit.

"Yes?" She was internally preparing to run, after all, she already put in gas, and he could pay for it, _too_.

"Are you heading somewhere? I'm on vacation and I would love a local to show me around."

He thought she was a local. Who could imagined that? But in reality, she really looked like a local.

"Do you want a tour at 4:05 in the morning?" Wow, this guy.

"Of course, it's the best time in the day. When the sun hasn't risen yet and the moon is just about to say goodbye." He said all that in that sexy accent she already came to love.

"Aww, you are a poet." And before he could add more for fear she refused, she said, "I know your intentions are as bad as mine, sugah, so follow me and let's take this one night."

And that was how their night became a day and then a night again and then a week. They didn't plan it that way. Both wanted a night of fun and one night only.

They connected like you expect soulmates to connect, in a desperate, passionate and  
irremediable way.

The Italian landscape became the silent witness of their affair; another, his suite and another, _her_ condo. Every encounter hotter and longer than the last.

Remy thanked the Thieves Guild training. Following the schedule he always  
meticulously planned for his jobs never has come more in handy because he had some time to spare, his purpose in Italian lands already done; he had a few days to pleasure a goddess.

She forgot her vacations had an expiration date. The next semester would start with or without her in class, and it was time to leave. Her major in French kisses in every Naples beach needed to end.

As the days passed, separating himself from Anna became difficult. He loved to see her admiring the moon from the window, covered in Egyptian white sheets, and, when she sensed his eyes on her, she let go of her makeshift dress, letting it pool at her feet.

She had to go, her stay had been long enough, her last semester in mechanical engineering was about to start.

Anna was making the separation difficult, without even trying. A free soul finding his match, a player was being played, he realized.

Remy received the message he was dreading to get, he needed to deliver a gem. He had to go and left her, without the comfort of a reunion in times to come.

Both felt something was off the moment they made the decision to part ways. They couldn't explain it and for people who never give explanations, that made perfect sense.

They didn't give excuses; they just knew.

The lovers decided to go to have dinner as goodbye. Her fancy attire remained. This time a siren-green sequined dress. She really was making the separation difficult.

He wore a tailored suit, custom Italian made. She wanted to ravish him before dinner even started.

They ate, drank wine, and touched each other under the table before dessert arrived.

Upon leaving the _ristorante_ they made love one last time in her condo, the closest and most secluded location to finish what they started while eating.

"I hope I can find you in another gas station, chere. Who knew one could find the perfect lover refilling gas."

"Sugah, you may find me again. Time will tell."

She was the first to go, taking his Versace shirt as a souvenir and his shoelaces just for fun.

He wanted to take her panties but she wasn't wearing any. And now he recalled she never did.

She left him with a feeling of total emptiness, that damn amazing, flirtous woman.

He decided it, with a grin in place, and pics of her American passport tucked in his sleeve treading the same name she given him, Anna Marie D'ancanto, and he was enchanted.

* * *

The inspiration for this fic comes from the song with the same name Rumors from R3HAB x Sofia Carson. From the fist time I heard the song I had to write something, so here it is my apport for the #rogue/gambitweek2020

Thank you so much to Jehilew and narwhalloveFF. Thanks to this beautiful and magnificent ladies you were able to read what I wrote. They took it and shape it in something readable and enjoyable. Also thanks to pastellarts18 for the help finding_ the car._

Thank you so much for reading it.

Comments are appreciated 3


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